


Comfort Food

by offwhxte



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: Bored!Hotch, Drunk!Reid, M/M, Vegans am I right, fluff!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-19
Updated: 2017-05-19
Packaged: 2018-11-02 08:46:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10941015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/offwhxte/pseuds/offwhxte
Summary: Reid wakes Hotch up in their shared hotel room with a Tupperware container full of vegan spaghetti and the smell of smoke on his clothes.





	Comfort Food

Hotch had been struggling with the concept of comfort for the past few hours. He'd flipped the pillow a few times every time he was uncomfortable, and it made things better for a minute or two before he was back at square one. The hotel television wasn't doing anything for him, only televangelists and old ladies showing off antique bracelets that were way too expensive. Hotel rooms were so boring, and he had no entertainment whatsoever.  

He was sitting up in bed surrounded by hotel stationary origami when Reid walked through the front door with a Tupperware container in his right hand and his key card in his left. He didn't seem to notice Hotch's confusion until he clambered into his bed and pried the lid off. It was after he had poised a plastic fork that he accidentally made eye contact with the other man, who was looking with an amused expression on his face.  

"You're awake," Reid mumbled, letting the Tupperware fall into his lap and closing it again. 

"I am," Hotch nodded and held up a swan he made, "Do you want?" 

"Um... sure," Reid leaned across the void in between their beds and plucking the paper from Hotch's fingers. "Thanks." 

Reid looked at the small paper bird in his palm, all of the facts about origami that he'd heard or seen burning on the tip of his tongue. He could talk about how Ori means folded in Japanese and Kami means paper, how it started out as Orikata, maybe the smallest and biggest origami creatures ever made? No, instead what comes out of his mouth is: "Do you want some?" 

Hotch looks surprised, but he turns his upper body, "What is it?" 

"Um..." Reid looked through the half-frosted glass, his vision blurring slightly. "I think it's spaghetti." 

"At..." He glanced over at the alarm clock on the side table, "Two in the morning?" 

"I was with Ethan," Reid explained, "He's going vegan, and he made this whole smorgasbord of vegan stuff. I had to leave, but he sent me with this." 

"Vegan spaghetti?" 

"Yes," Reid replied, blowing out a long breath and letting his chin drop to his chest. "I can't eat all of this." 

"Is it good?" 

"I haven't eaten it yet, but Ethan's been in New Orleans for a few years. He's a pretty good cook," Reid looked back at him, "So you want some?" 

Hotch didn't really have to think about his answer. He brushed a path through the sea of swans he'd marooned himself in and retreated from his own hotel bed and crawled onto Reid's, thankfully taking the plastic fork from his hand. He grimaced at the smell of Reid's clothes—everything smelled like smoke and alcohol and food, but there was still a hint of his cologne underneath. He definitely smelled like New Orleans. 

The first bite was weird. It was lukewarm, but he was never such a diva that he wouldn't take food when it was offered. It was tasty, he'd admit, but... "Why is it crunchy?" 

"The noodles are made of squash, I'm pretty sure," Reid held his hand out to take the fork, seeming not to notice the strange look on Hotch's face until he finally spoke after a long while of not being handed the fork, "What?" 

"We're gonna.... share a fork?" 

"We're sharing spaghetti, Hotch. If you're worried about saliva-borne illness, you'd get it either way," Reid reached over and snatched the fork with a careful smile, "Don't worry, I'm not contagious." 

"Didn't think you were," Hotch murmured, watching cautiously as Reid took a bite before handing the utensil off again. "So Ethan lives here?" 

"Yes," Reid nodded. The way his head seemed to move at its own accord lead Hotch to realize just how tipsy the young genius was. "Are you gonna eat?" 

Hotch blinked himself away from staring at him to see a large bite poised and ready. He looked at Reid's hazy, happy eyes and sighed before taking the end of the fork into his mouth. Reid grinned.  

"Good, isn't it?" 

"Yeah," Hotch said. Speaking from experience, as he often shared a room with Reid on their tougher cases when everyone had an overwhelming urge to get drunk and forget about everything, the genius was a very sensitive drunk. "Very good." 

They alternated for a long time until Reid was scraping the bottom of the container, searching for more food that wasn't there. Hotch was amazed. He'd never seen him eat that much in one sitting.  

Reid huffed and fell backwards on the bed, banging his head against the headboard but he didn't seem to notice, "There's no more." 

"You're right." Hotch reached over and swiped his thumb across the corner of Reid's mouth as an attempt to get the sauce off that rested there, "Do you want to order more?" 

"No," Reid whined and curled into a ball on the bed, knocking the container to the side. "I ate too much, too fast. When my brain catches up, it's gonna be bad." 

"Bad?" 

"Yeah," he nodded solemnly, "My ghrelin hormone decreased when I ate too fast. Didn't tell me my stomach was expanding." 

Hotch nodded slowly. He wasn't sure what he was supposed to do in this situation. He wanted to go back to his bed, but it was going to be hell trying to clear off all of the swans that rested there. Maybe he could sleep on the floor...? No, not even his tired state of mind would permit his old self to lay on the hard ground. 

"Nope." 

Hotch paused just as he started to roll off the bed in order to begin his sweep of his bed. "What?" 

Spencer patted the space next to him, "Stay." 

And he did. It wouldn't take much consoling to get him out of the difficult job of balling the top sheet up and throwing it in the corner, no sir. He let himself consider what would happen in the morning for just a moment, but slipped under the covers and let Reid tangle their legs together. He waited until Reid's breathing evened out before he tucked the young genius into his side (for comfort, for both of them) and promptly passed out. 

\---- 

Hotch woke up to Reid hovering over him with a big smile on his face.  

"Good morning?" He grumbled, confused.  

"Hi," Reid replied happily. "You actually stayed." 

"Yeah." Hotch had slept fairly well. Most likely better than he would have if he slept in the origami bed--which was, as he looked over to assess the damage, clean. "Where'd they all go?" 

"I put them on the counter," Reid threw a hand out in the general direction, "But I kept one, if that's okay. You're super good at it." 

"Thanks." 

Reid rolled off of Hotch, who slowly realized that he was being straddled before and somehow hadn't noticed. He sat up in bed and crossed his legs as subtly as he could. 

"So, assuming the position we woke in wasn't completely accidental," Reid was standing by the bed, rocking back and forth on his heels. Hotch's face grew red, "I'm also going to assume you wouldn't be opposed to proper food? Like, tonight?" 

"Proper food?" 

"Like," Reid shrugged and stuffed his hands in his pockets, already dressed while Hotch was just in his sleep clothes, "Not vegan, and in a restaurant. And stuff." 

"Stuff," Hotch repeated, slowly understanding the implication and grinning. 

"You're smiling!" Reid all but cheered, "That's not the face of rejection at all. I like it." 

Hotch nodded, "Yeah, definitely not rejection. If we can close out the paperwork for this case on the jet, I think dinner sounds great." 

Reid leapt onto the bed and gathered Hotch into a lackluster hug before he crawled off and mumbled to himself. Hotch was pretty sure he said, _"Can't wait to tell Ethan about this."_  


End file.
